


catch you on the flip side

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dimension Travel, Extra Treat, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Rimming, Space Pirate Thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-24 07:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16635740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: Thor slouches in the captain’s chair; left side up top, the spot Quill always took. He looks totally at ease, knees open and arms dangling off the rests. Rocket’s mouth dries up faster than a drop of water in a desert.





	catch you on the flip side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lionessvalenti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/gifts).



> I wish I could have fit more tropes in here, I loved all of them <3

Rocket has no clue what to expect when he opens his eyes.

The scientifics of this whole ‘mess with time’ plan don’t make sense to him. Screw with the past, get the infinity stones before Thanos? Rocket is better with stuff he can reach out and touch. Wiring, batteries, lava rock, whatever. Rocket can turn anything into an energy source or a bomb. (Ok, usually a bomb.)

This dimensional mind trip isn’t Rocket’s bag. Only reason Rocket bought into the idea is because he saw the others go through it first. Their newest friend, star spangled chick, knows all about timelines and alternate planes. She explained it to the Wakandans, Wakandans built the tech. Thor’s buddy Cap went under. Thor did too.

(Rocket sat next to Thor the whole time he was out. He didn't think anything would happen to the guy, or that Thor would give a crap when he woke up. But - whatever, it’s not like Rocket had anything better to do.)

Thor was fine after. Fine-ish. Rocket tries not to think about it.

Thor was about to volunteer to go again. Gloryhound, masochist, whatever. Rocket jumped in before Thor could, claimed he couldn’t let the non-furries have all the fun. He grinned and finger-gunned at Thor. Look at Rocket being Mister Freaking Responsible!

The look Thor gave Rocket was grim, but he promised to be by Rocket’s side when he woke up. It had to be a bluff, but Rocket’s tummy somersaulted like a goddamn circus act. He told himself not to be too disappointed when he woke up to an empty room.

If he ever wakes up, that is. This time stuff is experimental. Thanks to Thanos, all they have left is to try to mess with reality. It’s a desperation play, but what else can they do? If there’s even the smallest chance of getting Groot back…

Rocket opens his eyes, but he’s not in a sterile white med room in Wakanda. He’s folded into a cruiser seat. Seems awfully familiar. Rocket rubs his eyes and looks around.

Holy shit. The Milano?

The ship's front shields open up to the comfortable blackness of space. Stars whizz by like static snow. The chair's leather fits Rocket like a glove.

Rocket yawns and stretches. If this is the Milano, the time jump must have worked. He’s back on Quill’s ship with the rest of the gang, right?

“I am Groot.” The deep, gravelly voice shocks Rocket to silence. His old pal occupies the neighboring seat. Grown, adult Groot, trunk legs bent to accommodate his seat. Rocket gawks, he can't help it, and Groot cocks his head. “I am Groot?”

“Fine, man,” Rocket mumbles. “Conked out, that’s all.” His voice is hoarse.

“I hear they make beds for that sort of thing.” It’s not a voice Rocket expects to hear on this ship.

Rocket swivels in his chair. Sure enough, it’s not his crew - Quill, Gamora, Drax, Mantis. It's Thor. A different Thor. He’s got the short hair and the beard, but that’s where the comparison to the Thor Rocket knows ends. This Thor has an eye patch - honest to god, head strap patch over his right eye. He wears a leather sleeveless shirt, leather pants, and leather strapped up boots. His forearms, bare of vambraces, each show a coiled snake tattoo. Twin forked tongues, fangs bared to strike. A collection of silver and black rings dress his fingers.

Thor slouches in the captain’s chair; left side up top, the spot Quill always took. He looks totally at ease, knees open and arms dangling off the rests. Rocket’s mouth dries up faster than a drop of water in a desert. Fuck - seriously, _fuck_.

Thor’s smirk becomes raised brows. “You alright?” he asks.

So, this crazy time-jump thing zapped Rocket to a universe where Hot Pirate Thor helms the Milano? Rocket's head is spinning.

He clears his throat. “What’d I miss?”

“I am Groot,” Groot says - they’re closing in on their destination. Sounds nice and ominous.

“We’re still a day or so out,” Thor says. “Auto-nav’s on, good time for resting.” He stands from his chair - a languid motion, smooth as a river current. It’s crazy for a guy his size to be so light on his feet. Thor’s good eye stays on Rocket. it’s a darker blue than Rocket can remember.

(Not that Rocket wastes his time gawking at Thor’s good eyeball. Just a few minutes here and there. Every day.)

“Rabbit,” Thor bids. His voice is low and convincing, and Rocket is on his feet before he can think. He chomps down on the inside of his cheek and trails Thor out of the cockpit.

Rocket wonders if Thor suspects the difference between him and the other Rocket. What is the Rocket from this place even like? Must be a badass if this Thor is palling around with him.

“Where’re we going?” Rocket asks.

Thor smiles over his shoulder, effortless cockiness. Rocket’s belly starts to cramp. “I don’t like this new ‘falling asleep in the cockpit' habit of yours. As captain, I have a duty ensure the health and safety of my crew, do I not?”

Rocket knows a trick question when he hears one. He stops, arms crossed and foot tapped on the grated floors. “I’m good,” he says.

“I’ll be the judge of that ” Thor's words are light; they’re playing some game Rocket doesn’t know the rules of. Who knows, health stuff may be Bizarro Him and Thor’s thing.

Rocket exaggerates a yawn and stretches arms high above his head. “Well, judge away, captain.” In his head, it’s a harmless tease. His Thor would smile, might even chuckle - though his laughs are few and far between nowadays.

This Thor stops mid-step and stares at Rocket. His smile is gone, and his uncovered eye turns stormy. It’s the deepest blue Rocket can remember, like ice and fire coming together.

Thor speaks before Rocket can offer his awkward apology. “Follow me,” under his breath. Well, shit.

They climb down to the Milano’s lower level. Largest cot on the whole ship is down here. Fun Room, as his old crew called it. Rocket never wanted to think much about what the others got up to in the Fun Room. Especially Quill, dude had issues.

Is there a Quill in this universe, Rocket wonders. How did Rocket end up on the guy’s ship with Thor and Groot? Did Quill lose his ride? Was it ever his to begin with? Rocket’s brain hurts. This place makes no sense.

And why the hell is Thor bringing him down to the Fun Room?

“On the bed,” Thor says. Well, that helps a bit.

Rocket blinks, but he complies. There’s no chance things are going where Rocket thinks they are. No chance, but - shit, Thor is peeling off his shirt. He’s obscene, not a soft patch on him. His leather slacks hug low, baring deep hip ridges. Rocket could bury his face in those grooves. His hands itch to touch.

Thor paces the perimeter of the cot, the same patient smirk curling his lips. “I told you to quit it with the power naps - take off your shirt.” The order comes out like an overconfident afterthought. This Thor is practically thrumming with his own ego. His blue eye stays on Rocket, and - shit, Rocket is sporting in his pants.

It's not fair, Rocket has been so good with his Thor until now! He always bows out if Thor gets too close, shies away from those friendly touches. Thor looks a little hurt whenever Rocket pulls away, but what choice does Rocket have? Explain an inevitable woody to the God of freaking Thunder? _Sorry, man, I know you’re trying to find your lost kingdom or whatever, but you’re porn-level hot. And, ok, there's a good chance I'm falling for you. Ain’t that some shit._

Rocket has been so good, but now... Gawking, speechless, Rocket yanks his shirt off.

Hovering over Rocket, Thor makes a thoughtful sound. His good eye rakes over Rocket like every piece of fur belongs to him. Rocket hates it, on one hand. He doesn’t belong to anyone, he’s not a _thing_ , not some bad science experiment. But it’s still Thor. A weird Thor, but _Thor_ staring at Rocket, dragging his tongue across his lips.

“Fuck,” Thor murmurs. Rocket tries to remember if he’s ever heard his Thor use the word. If he has, it sure as hell didn’t sound like this - low and husky, shivering through Rocket’s bones. Rocket's cock fills up, and it takes every ounce of self-will not to rub himself through his pants.

Thor moves fast. He has Rocket on his back before Rocket can breathe. Thor’s face is in his chest, breathing him in like an animal testing out a potential snack. His exhales puff hot against Rocket’s throat. “Mm...I’d do this all day if I could, Rabbit.”

“Shit,” Rocket groans. What's happening right now?

Thor unzips Rocket’s pants and shoves them down. Rocket squirms and hisses. Thor is going so fast! Rocket’s brain hasn’t wrapped around the reality of this yet. Thor is touching him, Thor wants to fuck him!

Rocket is buck ass nude, and Thor forces his body down into the mattress. Rocket’s cock stands erect, grinding on Thor’s crazy-jacked abs.

Thor chuckles. “Let’s see, what do I want first.” He nuzzles Rocket’s ear. “Do I want to suck that little dick of yours?” He pinches Rocket with no warning, thumb and forefinger rubbing Rocket’s prick. Rocket whines, sudden and strained. His body jumps off the bed.

Thor hums approval. “Or I can fuck you with my fingers. You like when I do that, don’t you?” Thor sweeps Rocket’s tail to the side. The room’s air kisses Rocket’s ass before Thor’s thumb follows. It circles him, and presses in. Rocket yelps, and his legs kick out. Precum gathers in the slit of his cock and dribbles uselessly to his stomach.

Thor laughs again. “So jumpy! What would you do if I actually tried to fuck you?” The sound of a zipper perks Rocket’s ears. “I could get you so loose, Rabbit. Stretch you wide and wet. You could take me. I know you could.”

Rocket startles at the sight of him. “Are you crazy?” he yelps. Thor is huge. Massive even by god-man standards. His cock is thick and long, already so heavy for Rocket. Blushed hot, terrifying. What can Rocket do with that thing?

Thor hooks an arm around Rocket’s waist and pulls him up. Rocket is on his stomach, on all fours next. Thor is breathing on him. Humming, nosing Rocket’s tail, and his mouth, shit, his mouth is…

Rocket scratches the bed sheets to ribbons. He hisses and claws at the pillows, at himself, at whatever he can grab. Rocket's body is overfull, wet and pliant as Thor’s tongue plunges into him. Thor digs him out, stretches him. Rocket’s legs feel like rubber. He bucks and writhes.

Thor pinches and pulls at Rocket’s cock, and his lips circle, his tongue thrusts. Rocket is past words, past reason. This is everything he’s ever wanted, but it’s going so fast! This isn't even his Thor, it’s a sham, but ‘no’ is the furthest thing from Rocket’s mind. He stutters broken pleas and Thor’s name in a humiliating loop.

Thor’s tongue goes MIA, but it’s replaced by two fingers ridged by rings, wet from spit. Rocket yelps when they push in, and his cock bucks right into Thor’s mouth. Thor swallows, it’s child’s play for him. His mouth gobbles up Rocket's dick and stomach in one go. He plucks Rocket’s prick with his tongue, _playing_ with it. Rocket fades in and out. He’s split too wide, buried wants spilling out like blood from a stab wound.

Would Rocket’s Thor ever fuck him like this? A pity act for an idiot friend who started to feel too much?

Rocket comes harder than he can ever remember. He’s gone, black spots over his eyes. Rocket is near-catatonic in the aftermath. He groans and sprawls bonelessly on the bed.

Thor’s quickened breaths register. Jacking himself off, has to be. It’s a sight Rocket wants to see, but he can’t even lift his head. Thor’s fingers are still up his ass, scissoring lazily. Rocket moans, and his flaccid cock twitches.

Thor’s groan is luxurious against Rocket’s belly. He purrs content and stretches as his orgasm hums through him. Inside Rocket, his fingers crook. Rocket whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut.

“You should sleep like this,” Thor murmurs. “With me inside you. And wake up begging for me, how does that sound?”

“Thor,” Rocket slurs, “damn it.”

“Then you’ll know how I feel. You, sleeping on the bridge. Me, desiring you all the time.” His thumb circles the base of Rocket’s tail, and around to Rocket’s pebbled balls.

Rocket shudders - is Thor serious? Whether he is or not, Rocket can’t move enough to make Thor’s ego work for it. Rocket is down for the count, spilling out like a beer knocked sideways on a bar. Open wide, completely vulnerable. This Thor seems to know exactly what Rocket wants before Rocket does.

“You’re...a son of a bitch...know that?” Rocket fights to get the words out.

Thor nuzzles Rocket’s belly. “Whose fault is that, hm?”

“Can’t blame - oh fuck…” A stroke between Rocket’s thighs cuts through the heaviness of his drowsing. Thor’s touch is slow, the most agonizing kind of tease. Rocket rolls his hips down on Thor’s hand.

“I’ll blame whoever I want,” Thor mumbles into his fur. “Captain’s perk.”

It hits Rocket that this Thor is kind of a douchebag. But, blissed out as Rocket is, god-man fingers up his ass? There’s only so much protesting Rocket can do. “Fuck you,” he manages - sleepy but effective. Rocket has no idea if Thor has another smartass comment for him. Rocket is out.

It’s amazing. Best damn sleep he’s had since this whole mess with Thanos started. Rocket dreams of his morons popping up in Wakanda. Quill with his stupid grin. Gamora with her badass sword. Drax and Mantis being idiots. Groot with that dumbass video game.

Rocket dreams of peeking over and seeing Thor hug his best friend. Heimdall, Thor called him. Crazy eyeballs, gold like a treasure chest. Rocket dreams of Thor’s dead brother being not dead, and Thor’s kingdom happy and bowing to him. Or whatever god-people do for their god-king.

Rocket dreams of relief, a real laugh, and Thor’s strong hands on his back. He dreams of Thor finding the metal plates sewn under his fur, a spine made of steel, gears shifting and whirring.

Rocket dreams of Thor’s face buried against his neck. A mouth nuzzled in his fur. Low words against his chest. “Forgive me, Rabbit. I desire you if you'll have me.”

Rocket dreams of being spread out. Stripped and licked. Made to wriggle and beg long before Thor ever touches between his legs. Rocket dreams of growling, cock full, and pleading for attention Thor won’t give. Thor is too busy nibbling on Rocket’s thighs or kissing the screws in Rocket’s chest. Licking the point of an ear or breathing desires into his stomach.

God, Rocket is crazy about Thor. He wants Thor even with the universe gone to shit. Rocket is about to burst. He’s trembling all over, pent up like a pressure valve. Rocket is so desperate and _hungry_ and-

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Th’hell?” The words stumble out, high pitched, breathless. Right, shit, this Thor. This badass, douchebag pirate Thor. His fingers. His mouth. Rocket’s eyes fly open. He’s already full, shaking, already about to- oh shit-

Rocket wakes to an orgasm. It crashes through him like a downed cruiser. He’s too relaxed, too sleep-opened, wringing hard around Thor’s fingers. Every scrape of their rings makes Rocket gasp and writhe. His stomach is a mess, fur matted down with his own come. Rocket can’t catch his breath. His legs flail, and his nails puncture through the bedspread. Nonsense words dribble off his tongue.

Thor strokes Rocket through it. He knows exactly where to go, the place where Rocket’s orgasm will drain out the longest. Thor grins, the asshole, and hums in Rocket’s ear. “Look at you,” he says. “Told you I’d take good care of you, didn’t I?”

The fingers inside Rocket finally relent. His body flexes around nothing, but the emptiness is a welcome change from being so out of his head.

Slowly, Rocket’s thoughts reassemble into some sort of cohesion. “How much longer til we get there?” The words rasp out. Embarrassing.

“Four hours or so, but we’ll move in under cover of nightfall. The palace will be well-guarded, but I know another way in.”

So, Rocket is in this crazy universe because sex-on-legs Thor wants to fuck him and rob royalty?

Bizarro Rocket must have already known the plan; where they’re going, what they’re trying to steal. Still, with the kind of sex he’s getting, it makes sense that he would lose a few brain cells now and then. “Remind me, what’s the plan? I follow you in or what?”

Lucky for Rocket, the question doesn’t seem strange to Thor. He gives Rocket’s head a playful pat. Rocket steels himself against recoiling, he’s no freaking house pet.

“You will follow me in, yes,” Thor tells him. “But I’ll be the one to retrieve the artifact. You simply lack the ability to handle it. But you’ll be carrying your gas bombs should we need to cover our tracks. Groot will remain back with the ship and be ready to alert us to any threat from the outside.”

Rocket doesn't like to hear he ‘simply lacks the ability to handle’ anything. But with Thor, Rocket does not doubt it. Rocket remembers hearing a warning like this twice before. Wielding weapons from Nidavellir and handling an infinity stone.

It’s a long shot. What are the chances this Thor wants to bust into some royal castle and steal an infinity stone like a moron?

“Sounds like you’ve got it all covered,” Rocket says. He yawns and buries his sex-heavy body in the mess that's left of the bed sheets.

A smile touches Thor’s lips. “I should hope so,” he replies. “It's not every day one returns home.”

***

Asgard. Their target is freaking Asgard. Thor’s home. A whole realm of god-people. A place that, in this crazy universe, Thor is not welcome in. It’s a spot Thor has come to despise, and one he means to rob by any means necessary.

It’s hard to see anything by cover of night, but what Rocket can make out seems nice enough. Lush gardens, crystal rivers, snow-capped mountains, starry skies. It’s pretty, makes sense that Thor would be from a place like this. The palace of Asgard stands out like a gold beacon, bricks seeming to glow in the bluish hue of night. No wonder this Thor wants to target the palace. If they’re not here for an infinity stone, they could be robbing any other number of riches. Asgard has to have enough gold to go around.

“You sure I shouldn’t bring any bags?” Rocket asks. "Just the bombs?”

Thor shakes his head. “Trust me, Rabbit,” he says. “The palace of Asgard is rich, but the tesseract is worth every ounce of gold it possesses.”

The tesseract? Rocket deflates; not an infinity stone then. But there must be some other reason why this crazy stone hunt dropped Rocket here. Or is the damn formula broken and this universe has nothing to do with Thanos? Makes sense that Rocket would get the bad mind trip.

Groot bids them good luck with a solemn, “I am Groot.” Rocket looks back at him too long as he follows Thor out into the night. Dude gave his life to save Rocket and his morons on Xandar. Rich as Thor promises to make Rocket, right now he doesn’t want to go treasure grabbing. He wants to turn around and go back to his best friend.

Then again, the view Rocket has trailing Thor isn’t so bad either. His leather pants and shirt show off the curve of his spine. It’s pretty obvious that Thor knows Rocket’s eyes are on him. He walks with his back squared, and his body moves like a sex spell. He’s a jerk, and so damn hot. Rocket can’t blame his alter ego for falling for this egotistical douchebag.

Thor leads them to the outer wall of the palace, a circular perimeter with no visible doors or windows. Rocket pauses on the gravel, tapping a foot. “Forget where the door is or something?” he asks. Thor smirks.

Rocket looks from his smug face to weird wisps of green light curling around his fingers. Instinctively, Rocket takes a step back. When Thor’s hands start glowing, shit usually blows up. Only, he doesn’t hear any peals of thunder, and the sky doesn’t flare with lightning.

The emerald haze around Thor’s hands congeals into a series of symbols. Rocket does not understand them. They scatter across the outer castle brick. Each letter arranges itself into a tall rectangle. A doorway. The bricks under the glowing letters disappear, and a dark entrance yawns open.

Rocket whistles low. He’s never seen his Thor pull this party trick out of his weather-wielding arsenal. If Rocket ever makes it back from this bizarro universe, he’ll have to ask Thor to show him more of what he can do.

“This way,” Thor says, and he leads Rocket inside.

Beyond the doorway, the halls are dark. Forget electricity, this place doesn’t even have candles. Rocket stumbles in the shadows, keeping on track by the soft thud of Thor’s boots in front of him. It takes a few twists and turns for them to reach a passageway warmed by torches lining stone walls.

“Looks like some dark ages shit,” Rocket mutters. He wonders if they had a dark age on Asgard, most planets do - some bygone era when life was even worse than it is now. Who knows, maybe this Thor was alive for all that. He must be as old as Rocket’s Thor, over 1500 years old.

The torch-lit hallways give way to a set of wide, stone stairs. Thor leads the way down.

Their descent opens to a long room. A large torch blazes at the end of the passage. Its flame is so strong that something seems off about the thing. Rocket doesn’t doubt that the torch is lit, but...is it really fire? So much about this place is off-the-wall bonkers.

The rest of the room is a looter’s paradise. Gold and jewels gleam all over the place. Gold crowns, gold weapons, jeweled swords and headdresses.

But Thor seems to know exactly what he’s looking for. He marches past all the shiny stuff and veers off to the left. He stops halfway down the long hall, before a single elevated display column. A cube sits on top - bright and blue. The thing is glowing, like it’s got its own fancy cosmic energy. Like it powers itself, and it could power a whole hell of a lot more.

“Rabbit, meet the tesseract,” Thor says, grinning. “This beauty will make us richer than your wildest dreams.”

“Holy shit, Thor.” Rocket stares up at him, wide-eyed. “Is that an infinity stone?”

Thor’s smugness turns to surprise. “I didn’t know you knew about those. Yes. The space stone, in fact. The tesseract is - think of it as an outer shell.” His smile returns, playful, carefree. “As you can imagine, the market for the tesseract will be quite lucrative. We won’t ever have to work again. Unless we want to, of course. We can pick and choose our heists, have some real fun.”

Rocket uses Thor's sudden pause to jump in incredulously. “We can’t sell a freaking infinity stone, man! Are you nuts?” Geez, how much has changed since Rocket and Groot stumbled on Quill and their first infinity stone?

Rocket quiets when Thor holds up a hand. Thor is looking around, a sudden seriousness clenching his jaw. “What?”

He hears footsteps. Each one clicks gently down the stone steps Rocket and Thor were just on. Slow, measured, easing a path down to them. A long shadow extends towards them.

“Get behind me,” Thor says. He places himself between Rocket and the steps.

Rocket expects a whole army to come for them. Intruders busting in to steal an infinity stone have to earn more than one dude. But one guy is all they get. The arrival wears a regal combination of green and gold. His skin is pale, and his hair is black.

The newcomer recognizes Thor on sight, that much is obvious. His smile is a blend of amusement and sadness as he sits on a step and sets down the object he carries. It’s a hammer, Rocket realizes, squinting behind Thor’s legs. The metal looks a lot like Nidavellir work. Does everyone on Asgard gets their own snazzy hammer from Eitri's forge?

“Brother.” There is disappointment in his green eyes and a quirk to his thin smile. “I wish this meeting were under better circumstances.”

Brother? As in, dead brother?

Thor chuckles, but Rocket hears the bite in it. “Better circumstances? You mean at the end of your hammer, king?”

The brother, or _king_ by the sounds of things, shakes his head. “I’m glad to see you, Thor,” he says. “I’ve missed you. We’ve worried so much-”

“Yes, you’ve been beside yourself, I see.” Thor’s smile is bitter, edged and mocking. “I can’t help but notice that you’ve come alone. Don’t tell me the All-Father is unaware of my presence. Has he declined so much already?”

The brother exhales slowly. “Father knows you’re here, Thor. I asked to meet you alone. To reason with you.”

Another laugh, full of malice. “You’ve come to parade before me in your pretty clothes and twirl your birthright in my face, Loki. Let’s not confuse ego for sentiment.” Rocket sees the brother’s grimace. The king - Loki, huh? - glances at his hands and gives another shake of his head.

What kind of screwed up universe did Rocket end up in?

“If it’s wealth you seek, Thor, let me help you,” Loki says. “The riches of your birthright are yours to do with what you will. Even if you remain steadfast in renouncing your title, you will never forfeit what Asgard owes you.”

Rocket cringes. The guy has to know how bad he sounds.

Thor snorts at the offer, no surprise. “How gracious, your majesty. Affording your poor brother a handout from the crown-”

“Norns, you twist everything.” Loki pinches the bridge of his nose. “Your choices are your own, Thor. But the tesseract is not yours to take.”

“And who claims ownership?” A change comes to Thor’s voice. His words are lower, colder. “You?”

“The tesseract is to remain in the vault of Asgard for the protection of the realms-”

“The tesseract remains here so you can use it for your own gain!” Thor shouts. He advances, and Rocket sees his power. Green wisps of energy coiling around his fingers. Twin daggers appear between them from thin air. Their hilts are blue, and the blades are sharp as the fangs of his arm snakes.

Loki stands from the steps. His expression is grave. “You and your companions will pass freely from Asgard, Thor, if you leave now. I will not stop you, nor the guards.”

“Nor father?” Thor sneers. “Does the old man bend the knee to you as well?”

Loki closes his eyes. After a moment, he takes the hilt of his hammer in hand. Thunder grumbles even through these thick, stone walls. A spark of lightning flashes between Loki's fingers

Rocket’s eyes return to the tesseract. The artifact goes unguarded as Loki squares to face an advancing Thor.

Rocket can’t hold an infinity stone on his own. It will kill him, and for what? Some universe that isn’t even Rocket’s? A future that won’t save Rocket’s crew, or his new friends, or his Thor?

The only thing here for Rocket is Groot. His partner in crime, his oldest friend. And Thor - hot as fuck, selfish, immature. But it’s still Thor, and he’s got a brother here. Not a dead brother, a live one. And a dad. Maybe a mom and a best friend too.

Rocket’s Thor would want them all to live, even if they’re not his family. Rocket sighs and steels himself. Time to be the hero.

The walls echo with the crash of clashing siblings. Stone cracks and steel clangs. Rocket reaches for the top of the pedestal. He’s on his tiptoes, arms stretched to their max. Nails extended, he’s so close, he _feels_ the power from the tesseract. It’s singing the fur on his paws and burning his fingertips. Rocket is so close, just a little more!

Rocket barely ducks away from the hammer that shoots past his face. It cuts between him and the tesseract, and Rocket stumbles back on his rear. The hammer boomerangs back, caught easily by Loki’s long fingers. Thor has a hand stretched out for Rocket. He’s bleeding from the mouth, and he’s lost one of his daggers. The other dangles from his fingers, the point dripping red. Thor must have struck true, though Rocket can’t see any injury on Loki.

“The tesseract is not made for your kind, Raccoon,” Loki says. “It will kill you. My brother must have told you this.”

“It’s Rabbit,” Thor grumbles. He scrubs his bloody mouth with the back of a hand. “And he _knows_ that, but he’s chosen not to listen apparently.”

Loki looks between Rocket and Thor. He smiles faintly. “My...brother calls you Rabbit?”

“Yeah, he does,” Rocket snaps. He’s not sure why he’s so defensive about it. “And it ain’t enough to hide this thing away in your pretty trophy case, _your highness_.” He spits the title out like a bad taste. “You gotta destroy it.”

It’s the first time Rocket sees surprise on Loki’s face; his eyes tick wider. The expression is still more practiced than Thor’s, who whirls to stare at Rocket like he’s grown another head.

“So, you’ve broken into our vault to destroy the tesseract?” Loki pronounces each word with caution, weight in every syllable.

“Rabbit, what the hell are you talking about?” Thor sounds concerned, confused, but angry most of all. Rocket gets it. He’s not playing along with the show Thor wants to put on for his brother. Families are weird. He thinks about Quill and Gamora, and his throat knots tight.

“We can’t sell an infinity stone, Thor,” Rocket says. “I know we’ll get a buttload of cash. But it ain’t worth the risk of someone scooping up the thing after us. If the wrong guy gets the space stone, shit’ll hit the fan.”

Thor’s brows shoot up. A disbelieving smile unravels on his face. “Rabbit, I don’t know what you’ve heard about the stones, but there is nothing to fear. It would take a being of unparalleled might to wield even one infinity stone. And making sure that doesn’t happen is my dear brother’s responsibility!” He grins at Loki like he would peel the skin from his brother’s face if he could. “Isn’t that so, Loki?”

Rocket can almost see the gears turning inside Loki's pretty, regal head. “There is one threat you fear above any other, isn't there?”

Thor looks between them in confusion. His eye settles on Rocket. The smile is gone from his face. Rocket steels himself. “His, uh, his name is Thanos. With the right gauntlet, he can handle all six stones. Not one.”

“Thanos?” Thor crosses his arms and snorts. “Ran into one of the children once. Green. Nasty piece of work.” Rocket’s ears perk. “Thanos is a threat to many realms, I’ll grant you this. But no one is capable of harnessing the power of the infinity stones. It isn’t possible.”

“But with the right vessel…”

Thor cuts in before Loki can continue. “It’s _not_ possible,” he grumbles.

Rocket’s shoulders slump. “It’s possible,” he says. “I know. I’ve seen it.”

“What?” Thor frowns.

“Where you’re from,” Loki says. His eyes are on Rocket, large, searching. “You’ve seen Thanos do this.”

Rocket nods. He doesn’t look at Thor. Hell, he doesn’t need to. A second later, Thor has him off the ground, hoisted by the shirt.

Rocket never quizzed Shuri on what would happen if he died on this merry time jump. If he dies, does he still wake up in his reality, good as new? Or will he stop breathing on the spot? His body may live on, but his brain will be mush. That would be a crap thing for his Thor to have to see.

Rocket’s brain sloshes; Thor shakes him back and forth in a white-knuckled grip. “What did you do?” Thor demands. “Where is Rocket?”

The guy cares in his own way, Rocket has to give him that. Thor's good eye is all murderous rage. He jostles Rocket around until Rocket is sure his skull is about to snap off his neck.

“Thor - _Thor,_  damn it, stop!”

Rocket groans and squeezes his eyes shut. At least he’s not moving anymore. He’s held at Thor’s face level, faced with grit teeth and barely restrained rage. Loki’s hand is on Thor’s shoulder. It’s the reason for Thor’s pause. Thor hasn’t let up for Rocket’s sake. It’s for the bro he claims to hate.

“I don’t know,” Rocket rasps. “I'm from the future, I guess? Stuff’s different there. I, uh, I got a Thor.” Thor’s face is like katani metal, unmovable. Rocket blows out a breath. “Look, this guy Thanos will have a gauntlet made if he hasn’t already. On Nidavellir.”

Loki’s eyes twitch, and Thor’s anger gives way to confusion. “Eitri and the dwarves would never-”

“He kills ‘em, Thor,” Rocket says. “All of ‘em, except Eitri. Thanos gets his gauntlet, and he gets all the stones. Including this one. He,” Rocket glances at Loki, “kills you, man. He kills almost all your people. When I met Thor, he’d lost everything. You can’t-” Rocket turns his glare on Thor. “You can’t freaking _sell it_ , you idiot.”

Thor’s eye goes dark. Rocket spies a flash of green through the storm. “Where is Rocket?” he asks again. “My Rocket. Where?”

“I got no idea,” Rocket snarls. “Guess I got his spot so I could get this through your thick skull, man.”

It’s not a smart thing to say with a pissed off god-man in his face. Thor’s mouth pulls back in time with the flinch on Loki’s face. Rocket should care, but screw this Thor. Screw him for hating his family so much that he’ll sell off something with the power to kill half of existence. Rocket’s Thor would cut off his own arm to see his dead bro again. This guy isn’t a king, and he sure as hell isn’t an avenger.

“Give him back,” Thor whispers. “Give him back _now._ ” The air turns to ice between them. Rocket’s breath burns in his lungs. He glares into Thor’s good eye; the hate in it drills all the way down to his belly. Rocket thinks Loki may shout Thor’s name, but he’s distracted by the hand on his brow. Rocket’s head snaps back, he gasps, then -

\- Why the hell is Groot drinking from the fountain again? Disgusting! -

\- Ha, Quill actually got that guy’s leg! What an idiot! -

\- Why the hell are these jerks staring at Rocket? He didn’t ask to be made. It’s not Rocket’s fault he’s this little monster. -

\- Oh shit, the stone… It’s on fire! The Collector’s stash is up in flames! What the hell were they thinking, trying to sell the thing to this crackpot!? Oh shit, oh shit, _oh shit_! -

\- Hang on, Saul! Hang on! … Damn it. _Damn it._ -

\- It would have been nice to get some cash. But Rocket has to admit, he’s ok with the stone staying on Xandar. It’ll be safe here. Rocket holds the planter with the early sprout of the new Groot. Head low, Rocket allows himself a minute to remember his friend. -

\- Wipers, wipers! Get it off! -

\- The pirate angel thinks Rocket is the captain, that’s rich! Quill and Gamora are crazy, they want to meet Thanos head on? Didn’t they hear Thor? Thanos _decimated_ Xandar. Freaking Xandar, with the Nova Corps! What chance do they have if the Nova Corps got wiped off the map? -

\- Dead brother. Dead mom. Dead dad. Dead best friend. This guy is on one hell of a suicide mission. -

\- “You said Thanos had a gauntlet, right? Look anything like that?” -

\- But, Thor’s a god! He can’t… Gods don’t die, right? “He needs the axe!” Rocket hears Eitri shout, but Rocket can’t move. He’s on his knees, desperately shaking Thor. Thor is burned all over, and there’s blood, a lot of it. -

\- No, no, no, _no_! Groot...no… -

\- “You can’t...” Thor has a brave face on, a smile to cover the sickness they all feel. He sits on the fallen stump next to Rocket. “You can’t keep coming here, Rabbit.”

“I can,” Rocket hisses. “I ain’t leaving Groot.”

“Rabbit.”

“He ain’t gone!” Rocket rips away from Thor with a scowl. “Leave me alone, Thunder. I can’t do this right now.” -

\- “I’ll do it,” Thor says. The room turns towards him with surprise, and more than a little pity.

“Thor.” Shuri addresses him softly. “We think the time bridge will work, but the tests are still-”

“I’ll be the test,” Thor says. He looks at Rocket and smiles. Why is he looking at Rocket? “Every moment matters. We are not giving up on our friends, not ever.”

Thor holds Rocket’s eyes, and Rocket’s heart drops to his stomach. He wants to be sick. -

\- “Thor! Thor, hey. You’re back, Thunder. Buddy, hey, it’s...you’re ok. You’re...shit, Thor.” Rocket watches wide-eyed as Thor sobs into his palms. He’s choking himself, wheezing.

“I’ll… It’s...it's alright.” Rocket barely makes Thor out. He’s breathing too fast, coughing through his tears. Rocket has never seen Thor ball his body so tight. He pushes his face against his knees.

Shakily, Thor pats the hand Rocket has on his arm. It’s a dismissal, permission to leave.

Rocket traps Thor’s tear-damp fingers against his chest.

It takes awhile for the tension to bleed out of Thor’s shoulders. Rocket hugs Thor's arm close and doesn't say a word. -

\- “I should go again,” Thor says.

“Nope.”

Thor huffs. “It’s still experimental technology, you heard them in there.”

Rocket glares at him. “ _I’m_ experimental tech, buddy.”

Thor frowns at the observation like it upsets him. Rocket can't see why. It's true, isn't it? “Rabbit, I know what happened the first time. But I’ll be alright. Truly.”

Rocket crosses angry arms over his chest. “I’m going,” he says. “The more you yammer on about it, the more pissed I’ll be at you before I go under. So shut your piehole already.”

This gets a smile, resigned but amused. “I will be with you when you wake up,” Thor promises. “Like you were with me.”

Rocket doesn’t like thinking about the last time. Thor completely cracked… The memory makes Rocket go cold and his belly twist. Rocket isn’t seeing Thor like that again, no way. Rocket will go on this time trip as many times as it takes to never see that again.

Rocket puts on his best light-hearted mask and winks. “Bedside wake-up call? It’s a date, man.” -

\- And -

Rocket hits the floor. He scrambles to his feet, nails scratching stone. Back wedged against the tesseract’s column, he bares teeth at the two brothers staring down at him.

Thor regards him quietly, the final drops of magic bleeding from his eye. His hands fall to his sides, and his shoulders sag. After a moment, he glances at Loki. “We have to destroy it,” he says. “If Odin permits us.”

Some new, strange sentiment shines in Loki’s eyes. “We have to destroy it whether Father permits us or not.” Rocket has no idea what passes between them. Family shit.

When Thor looks back at Rocket, it’s with a solemn nod. “Thank you,” he says.

Rocket has no idea if he answers. Things get hazy all of a sudden. He’s dizzy, fading out. Pressure pounds in Rocket’s head like a dozen steel drums. Then, he’s falling, groping at empty space, screaming, clawing-

A steady beep. A drip. Rocket opens his eyes. It’s bright. White walls, white bed sheets, white floors and ceiling. Metal furniture scars the room in various states of disarray. Why is the desk split in half? What the hell happened?

Rocket blinks at his own blanketed lap. His hand sits on broad, large fingers. Rocket turns. Sure enough, Thor is in a chair next to Rocket's bed. His chin sags to his chest, and a snore rumbles under his breaths. Idiot. Rocket smiles and squeezes Thor's fingers.

Thor snorts in surprise, good eye winking open. He glances about in a daze; a few seconds pass before he manages to focus on Rocket. When he does, he smiles. “Hey,” Thor says, rough with sleep. “Welcome back.” He takes Rocket’s paw between his hands. His good eye is rimmed red. Rocket has a feeling this is the first time Thor has slept in awhile.

Rocket nods towards the busted up desk. “Redecorating?”

Thor’s chuckle is quiet and sheepish. “You were gone for over a week. It was not supposed to take so long.”

Over a week? It has to be true. The lack of movement weighs on Rocket’s body. He’s sore in some places, numb in others. But it makes no sense. He was in the other place for two days tops.

Rocket smirks. “So you fixed the place up for me? I like it. Fuck that desk.”

Thor rolls his good eye, but he still looks embarrassed. “I’m glad you’re pleased.” His flustered expression is - ok yeah, it’s endearing. Rocket suddenly feels warm.

He pulls his hands back so he can rub the grogginess out of his eyes. Rocket feels out of sorts, and it’s taking his body awhile to catch up to his brain. He has to remember, this is his Thor, not that fuckbuddy douchebag. This is Friend Thor. Pal Thor!

“I should find you a healer.” Thor’s voice sounds different. He’s looking away, a new tension in his shoulders.

“Cool it, I’m fine.” Rocket frowns and props himself higher on his pillow. “Thor, it didn’t work.”

Thor stops on the edge of his seat. He’s visibly startled, a wider curve to his eye. “What?”

“I mean...I guess it did, but it didn’t? I didn’t go back in time. The place, the whole universe - stuff was different, man. I was me, but I wasn't me. That make any sense?”

“A different reality.” Thor nods as he mulls over the possibility. “I’m not skilled in such matters, but I know them to exist. Our lives are our own, but there are other planes, other times.”

“I, uh-” Rocket rubs the back of his neck. “I found the space stone. With you, actually. I mean, another you. And I met your brother.”

Thor’s mouth slips open. “My brother,” he echoes.

“Yeah, on- uh, on Asgard. Your dad was still around too.” Thor stares at Rocket. Rocket’s heart throbs, and he rushes to continue. “I didn’t meet your mom or your best friend. I don’t know if they were around, but it was definitely your world. Your brother and you - other you - they were gonna destroy the tesseract together. That’s when I got shot back here. I don’t know, I guess things won’t suck so bad for them?”

Thor is quiet. He’s staring at his own hands, lip caught between his teeth. Rocket may have crossed some line, talking about Thor’s family.

A wet sniff makes him think differently. “Thank you, Rabbit.” Thor's voice cracks halfway through, and Rocket's chest lurches.

Thor smears a hand under his good eye. “Sorry,” he says. “It’s all the time now. I used to be better at…” He dabs his nose with the back of a hand. The new smile he gives Rocket is small and apologetic. “You need to be looked at,” he says, rising. “Wait here, I’ll-”

“You’re so much better than that guy.” The sentiment blurts out before Rocket can stop himself. This is going nowhere good, but Rocket wants Thor to stop. Rocket needs to slow Thor down, make him not leave, make him _listen_. “That other Thor was the worst, man. He didn’t give a crap about anything until the obvious was right there in his face. He was - I don’t know. The whole time, I knew he wasn’t my Thor. He sucked, that guy.”

“Your Thor,” Thor echoes, an amused light to his good eye. His smile stays soft. At least the guy isn’t mad.

But Thor keeps moving towards the door. Rocket's belly cramps like a closed fist. “Don’t,” he says.

“I’m only fetching you a healer, Rabbit. I’ll return, it won’t be long-”

“Don’t,” Rocket says again. He shifts as far to the side as he can without ripping out his IVs or whatever other wires they’ve got him twisted up in. This is stupid. Rocket knows he’s just a pal to this Thor. Sweet Rabbit, that whole spiel.

“I, um.” Thor eyes the space made on the cot. He looks nervous for some reason. “I don’t think I can fit with you. But I will stay if-”

“Tough.” Rocket bares his teeth. “I’m the one on the med bed. And I fit when it was you.”

Thor’s expression shifts, hollowed out and downcast. He looks embarrassed all over again, or ashamed, or - what the hell is with him? “You did, yes,” he agrees quietly.

Thor is cautious as he climbs onto the cot next to Rocket. It’s a tighter squeeze than last time. Makes sense - Rocket is way smaller than Thor, so he got a smaller med cot. Somehow, Thor maneuvers next to Rocket without knocking him off the mattress. Rocket wedges to Thor’s side, cheek on his chest and a hand propped on his thigh. Awkwardly, Thor slings an arm over Rocket’s pillow.

Rocket glances up, face rubbing Thor’s shirt. This is good. Rocket earned this, damn it! He took risks, he did hero stuff, saved a whole universe from Thanos and the stones. It won’t kill Thor to let Rocket fake this for a few minutes.

Rocket closes his eyes and listens to Thor breathe. Fingers stroke between Rocket’s ears, and he basks in the touch. It’s not that stupid little pat the other Thor gave him. This means something.

Thor’s heart pulses under Rocket’s ear. It’s...fast. Like the guy is sprinting, not chilled out on a med cot with his buddy. Rocket frowns and glances up. Thor’s good eye is swollen from tears and lack of sleep. His beard is a little rough too, now that Rocket’s getting a good look at him. “You look like week old shit,” Rocket tells Thor. “Why ain’t you sleeping?”

Thor sighs; he looks miserable. “You were gone longer than you were supposed to be.”

Like this explains anything. The guy could have talked to any of Wakanda’s med staff. They’re all brilliant here, they would have said Rocket was fine. Knocked out a little longer, that’s all. Nothing for a god-man to get bent out of shape about.

Rocket keeps looking at Thor. The dude he’s head over heels for, the one he’ll follow into any fight. Hell, Rocket will probably end up dead for Thor, and he’s made peace with that.

Rocket gropes for Thor’s hand and yanks it between his own. Thor’s heartbeat _jumps_ under Rocket's ear. His smile turns pained, and he abruptly faces a wall. Rocket squints, and his mouth slips open.

So, they’re both idiots, huh?

Rocket’s gaze turns sharp. “You don’t fix that sleep thing, I’ll fuck you up, Thunder. Don’t push it.”

Thor sighs again. “Right. I only-”

“Shut up.” Rocket nudges his body closer. He has to smile at the audible intake of breath from above him. “Hey, Thor?” Rocket releases Thor’s fingers. “That head thing you were doing. You should keep doing that.”

“You really are the worst patient.” But it only takes a few seconds for fingers to sift through the fur up the back of Rocket’s neck. Fuck, he’s good at touching. Rocket shivers and doesn’t try to hide it for once. He lets Thor feel his body thrum at the touch. Thor is staring at him, and Rocket almost hears the gears turning in his brain. Reminds Rocket of Loki. Family shit.

“You better not leave,” Rocket mumbles.

“Or what?” Thor is smiling - genuinely smiling. Rocket smirks and lets his eye close. He rubs his face on Thor’s chest and takes a deep breath of him. Thor’s own breaths stutter, and the hand between Rocket’s ears twitches.

Rocket can’t have been this stupid the whole time, right? He can be a moron sometimes, but not this much of a moron. It's so obvious! So obvious, and so hot.

“Bet you’d like to know,” Rocket jokes. Thor laughs, warm and pleased. Rocket has a thing for Thor's laugh.

Rocket must conk out for awhile. When Rocket opens his eyes again, the sun is going down and the med room is dark. Princess Shuri is bobbing past Rocket's bed. He’s not sure how she knows he’s awake, but she holds a cell phone over her head. Photo blackmail displayed triumphantly.

The door clicks shut, and Rocket stretches and blinks. Thor is slumped over him at a weird angle, face nestled close to Rocket’s head. His breaths tickle the back of Rocket’s neck.

“Idiot,” Rocket mumbles fondly.

“What?” answers him, soft and groggy.

Rocket rubs his cheek on Thor’s beard, a soft scrape of fur. Thor sighs and returns his nod. Rocket licks Thor's cheek, tasting the warmth of sleep on his skin. Thor offers a weary grin. “Hello to you too,” he says.

“Mm.” Rocket tucks his face under Thor’s jaw. “Fuck that. M'still sleeping.”

Thor chuckles, and large fingers rub their way down Rocket’s back. Must mean the guy is ok with catching a few more minutes of shut eye. And if he’s not, Rocket has some ideas on how to make Thor forgive him later. He has some ideas for a lot of things.

*The End*


End file.
